


Fix You

by I_Am_Titanium



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, F/F, Fluff and Angst, God I began to write this so long ago I forgot where I was going, I hope, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Similar plot with different people, bite me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:13:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21688909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Am_Titanium/pseuds/I_Am_Titanium
Summary: Among all the people that Skrulls took and replaced to complete their Secret Invasion toward the Earth, Bobbi Morse aka Mockingbird was no doubt the most suffered one. Escaped the fake West Coast Avenger mansion. Snuck into Skrull houses stealing food for a living. Got captured again and tortured. No one else experienced these like she did. As a result, it was reasonable for her to suffer severe post-traumatic stress disorder given the shit she'd been through.Luckily, Natasha was always there for her.
Relationships: Bobbi Morse/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	1. Yes we are living together Morse keep scrolling

**Author's Note:**

> So, this has always been an idea of me to write a Blackingbird version of PTSD recovery for Bobbi. I mean, of course, the canon version is Clint & Bobbi going for missions in World Counter-terrorism Association, which led to the (ew) reunion of them. Now as I gradually realize that Hawkingbird is actually a pretty toxic relationship where Barton straight up being a jerk and Bobbi really deserves someone better than him (if you really have to fight me on this I can), I want to see what would Tasha do instead. So, here we are.

_Scarlet sky. Odd-shaped rocks. Rough ground. Desolation in the air._

_What, they don't even have a sun in their world?_

The west side of the sky was unbelievably beautiful. The last shade of ivory stretched over multiple skyscrapers, and the edge of the terminator line seeped into the starry night to combine with indigo and violet as if it were some kind of well-blended cocktail.

_Remind me again why I ran?_

The street didn't light up one by one. You blinked, and the next thing you knew, the entire city was completely drenched in warm-toned lights. From the worldwide famous billboard in Time Square to the name of the most inconspicuous convenient, all lights lit up, the cold-tuned streams of light shooting right through the vast darkness like Hawkeye’s arrows, daring any passersby to look in them.

_Oh, right, perverted little green men and their perverted psychological experiment just to -_

Bang. Bang. Bang.

An airplane soared across the navy-blued sky that got darker every second.

_What was that? I didn’t recall that sound—_

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The penthouse of the opposite building that almost as tall as this one lit up. The honey light cast two hugging shadows upon the pulled curtains.

_Right. That must be little green men doing… What were they doing?_

_**Bang. Bang. Bang.** _

The airplane was long gone. The room without any lights fell into dead silence again. No lights, no sound. It might be really easy to pretend that you were sitting in the middle of nothing in here.

_Can’t these motherfuckers be quiet for like one second?!_

"I swear to God, Morse, I will tearing this fucking door down if you don’t open it now!"

There was a familiar voice barking through the thick door. But the only thing came through that seemingly innocent yet actually impenetrable door was grunts.

_It was all in my head… Nothing happened… You were back… safe…_

The hammering never stopped.

"Don’t you dare to think you can fool me with all these lights out. I know you’re in there! Open it!"

_FUCK._

She slowly raised her head buried in knees and got up beside the floor-to-ceiling windows, walking step after step to the door regardless of how urgent the sound sounded, grabbing a baton along the way.

The visitor found her throat one inch from the knife at the end of the baton after the door opened.

"Easy, little bird." the redhead grinned, slowly holding up an electronic watch showing nothing but green strips in the hostess’ suspicious look, "see? Not a Skrull. Now, can I come in?"

No movement. Not even a batting eyes. Under the dim light in the hallway, the blood-shot but still beautifully arctic-blue eyes of the blonde were sharp like a scalpel, dissecting the visitor piece by piece.

Natasha sighed, "Bobbi, the only way to prove myself to you if you don’t believe this Skrull detector of S.W.O.R.D. is to shoot myself and see if I transform. Do you want me to do that?"

Her chapped lips moved and the owner compromised at last. "No. Come in. Don’t turn on any lights."

"With pleasure."

" _Excuse_ me? Since when?"

"Since now." Natasha dropped the duffle bag on the ground, "I’m moving in until you are able to take better care of yourself."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Bobbi started to rub her bridge of the nose, "What's next? You wanna sing me some lullabies and tuck me in?"

"No. Drink it. Bottoms up." Natasha headed toward the kitchen and returned with a glass of water, "Your situation looks like hell and I bet you haven’t eaten anything today."

The blonde didn’t take the glass at once. "Why are you here, Nat? Did you come here to gloat?"

"Okay, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say those hurting words just now because I really didn’t come for a fight." Natasha insisted with a slight hint of anger, "I came because I care for you and I mean it. Hate to break it to you, but you just came back from an alien world that had been imprisoning you and whatever for three fucking years. I have every right to be here as well as Barton."

"Love to break it to you, Barton hasn’t come here even once." Bobbi replied dryly, accepting the water and finished it in a gulp anyway, "Thanks for the check-in, Romanov, but I’m fine. I can handle it on my own."

"I’m done playing nice here, Morse." Natasha growled back, forcefully shoving her toward the couch and sat her down, "You are clearly in denial and for you own good, I’m gonna point it out. You are showing typical traits of post-traumatic stress disorder. It’s totally reasonable, but you need help."

"And you think you being here can help how?" Bobbi raised an eyebrow, words dripping sarcasm.

"Jesus Christ, Bobbi, will you please quit being such a _bitch_ and just listen to me for one second?" Natasha snapped, fingers beside her body jerking like controlling herself with greatest effort not to punch her in the face.

The silence lasted for almost two minutes. It was fine for Natasha since she was always good at being silent; she found, unsurprisingly, recently Bobbi became good at it as well.

Bobbi broke the silence first, tone softer, "Why are you really here, Tasha?"

Natasha opened her mouth but failed to deliver any sound on the first attempt. She took a deep breath and spoke at last, "Skrulls blew up my apartment… and I missed your Borscht."

"Interesting." Bobbi put the glass on the table with less frowning, "You know where the bedroom is. I’ll take the couch."

Natasha wanted to protest, wanted to point out that this was her apartment and she really shouldn't have indulged her just to punish herself or whatever weird reason she had for reaching this decision, but she saw the tired expression written clearly all over the younger woman's face and realize maybe neither of them had the strength to argue over anything right now.

"Okay." the redhead's lips twitched as if she were trying to give a friendly smile and apparently failed, "Okay."

_Midnight. Ew. Worse time of the day._

_With a snap, the body that possessed the same figure, clothes, and expressions fell like a puppet without strings, turning into that sickening green, the color she swore she didn’t want to see for the rest of her life, in cold stare._

_This is, what, the second one in a week?_

_—If you count that stream of light move into the middle of the dusty sky as one day, then yes. A small voice whispered in her head in English._

_Fuck._

_Oh, and don’t forget that bitch on the earth. Maybe already convinced Clint to come around with whatever shit she threw and is cuddling beside him._

_Instinctively, she wanted to scream. And punched whatever the wall was made of. But she wisely got a hold of herself at the last second. This is not a good time to lower her combat effectiveness (and most likely to expose herself) for pure venting._

_So she turned and blended into darkness again like she had been doing for the past hundreds of days._

_(Too bad she had been through too much to believe in karma, otherwise, it would be exciting to consider what that bitch had for them.)_

_But this time, the darkness was no longer her friend. There was green in black, there was always green…_

"Bobbi? _Bobbi?!_ Wake up! You’re screa—oof."

Her body reacted before her consciousness returned to it. When her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness that was hardly darkness around her, she found herself lying on her stomach on the floor near the couch without feeling its coolness, because Natasha was held facedown beneath her with arms twisted behind her back.

She was panting, a sheer layer of sweat sticking to her forehead. She released her hand and stood up as fast as possible, tugging at the hem of her tank top with lower lip between her teeth. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, but what happened had already happened.

She seldom panted. She could run miles with a blush that was barely there, not to mention in the combat when adrenaline spiked. Years of training provided her with a built physique. Her physical state was basically at peak.

—So, of course, it was a mental problem.

"I had to defend myself, I know the consequence of waking a trained agent like you in the nightmare, but I’ve got to admit, you’re faster than I remembered." Natasha pushed herself up with her hands and got up, rubbing her forehead.

Bobby wanted to apologize, but she couldn’t find the strength to do so. She backed away from the couch and from Natasha, "I wasn’t—"

"—having a nightmare? Yeah, I'm not a Russian either. People usually don’t scream when they are having the dream of their lives, Morse." Natasha said in a matter-of-fact manner and turned around to face Bobbi. She was wearing a white nightgown, looking like a goddess in the midnight glimmer of the city.

Bobbi didn’t answer. Her head was lowered to avoid eye contact and her hands were wrung together behind her back like a kid that got into trouble.

"Do you want to talk about it, Bobbi?" Natasha switched to a less sarcastic tone and took a step closer. Bobbi shook her head and backed up again subconsciously, reaching out to wipe the sweat from her brow.

"I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I won’t hurt you." Natasha felt like she was trying to teach a first grader one plus one equals two without impatience. Or at least she felt this way.

"Of course you won’t, Natasha," Bobbi finally looked up. Her eyes were hiding in the shadows, expressions hard to read, "but I will hurt you. Actually I just did."

"Oh please, it didn’t even dislocate." Natasha meant to joke, but she wasn’t sure if she did it right. She sighed, "listen, Bobbi, I understand how you’re feeling right now. I really do. So now I’m going to bed, pretending it’s never happened. In exchange, you will get up later than me and let me make you brunch. Deal?"

Bobbi bit on the bite mark on her lower lip and nodded, but she didn’t move at all. Natasha realized she wouldn’t go to the couch when she was here, so she turned first and made way to the bedroom.

She swore she heard a barely audible sob at the very instant the bedroom door was closed.


	2. He loves you. He doesn't love you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death to the little green men!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The most satisfying chapter to write after all those little fucks did to my precious baby uwu

Bobbi held up her end of the deal… At least she pretended to. Natasha watched Bobbi peeping the movement in the kitchen, not realizing she was busted, with amusement as she leaned against the counter, waiting for the coffee maker and the toaster to heat up.

Natasha doubted she ever slept at all.

But Bobbi lay on the couch firmly for another hour before opening her (pretended) sleepy eyes. By then Natasha had fried bacon and eggs and put them between two slices of toast. She also remembered to cut herself a half.

She found a tray in the kitchen and carried the mug of coffee and the sandwich in it to the couch, where Bobbi was (pretending) struggling to get off. "Here. Breakfast in couch. Or brunch. Whatever. I couldn’t find any sugar and milk in the fridge."

"Thanks, but I don’t usually go with—"

"Yeah, that’s what I thought." Natasha pulled the back cushion from under Bobbi and put it on the armrest so she could sit more comfortably, putting the tray on her knees.

They fell silent for a while, chewing on their sandwich quietly.

Bobbi swallowed rather difficultly. "Bacon tastes funny."

Natasha shrugged, not noticing anything wrong. "You bought it. And I checked the date. It’s okay to eat."

"Seems like it’s good to have some human food once in a while." Bobbi meant to joke as well, but she failed miserably.

Natasha stopped chewing for a second, but she decided to pick it back up without saying a word.

"Don’t get me wrong, Tasha, because I’m really grateful you did this," Bobbi said after a pause, staring at the sandwich in her hands, "but why? I’ve been through a lot, but I’m not some kind of distressed damsel who desperately needs delicate care whatsoever. Why did you force a move-in like this?"

"Who knows? Maybe I’m into you." This was the _worst_ joke Natasha had ever attempted.

Bobbi glared at her.

Natasha cleared her throat, sounding more serious. "Anybody who knows you knows how strong you can be, Bobbi, but everybody has a breaking point."

Bobbi had given up eating. She put down her barely-touched sandwich, staring at it with something on her mind.

"What if you’ve gone past that said point?" Bobbi turned to face Natasha suddenly, and she immediately looked away, pretending she wasn’t staring at her. She suspected she was spotted already. "What if somebody forced you past the point?"

"Well, I prefer to think the point is further than you thought," Natasha answered briefly.

"I’m going for a stroll," Bobbi turned off the dishwasher and said to Natasha who was standing by the kitchen door with a mug of coffee. "There’s a spare key under the mat if you ever decide to go out as well. There isn’t much interesting stuff going on here after all."

She wanted to smile. She tried and failed. She seemed to forget this action.

"Sure, sure. I can take care of myself." Natasha tilted her head in disbelief, deciding not to comment on the awkward moment.

"That was literally the exact thing I said last night." Bobbi murmured under her breath, grabbed her coat, and left the apartment.

Natasha looked at her black coffee and grimaced as she emptied the rest into the sink. After that, she grabbed her coat as well, but for a different reason.

She caught up with Bobbi, with hands in the pockets and collar turned, after three blocks. The streets of New York got a lot more crowded since it was almost Christmas season. Everyone passing by was carrying three or more shopping bags, bragging loudly about their New Year resolution.

_My New Year resolution: try not to die in the coming year._ Natasha found her presence amusing after spending a lot of time without being around so many normal people (by her standard, apparently) like this. The disaster in the last few months was targeting the entity of the humankind, of course, but the resilience of the people, even after so much madness, never failed to surprise her. Everything ended only a few months ago and now the streets were filled with joyful people planing on their holiday as if "little green men trying to take over the earth" never happened.

Her gaze fell back to the blonde twenty yards from her crossing a street in the crowd, looking so small and fragile.

_Because these heroes took most of the brunt._ She thought bitterly. _Her, me, thousands of heroes whose names would never be known to public._

Bobbi froze in the middle of the sidewalk, and so did Natasha, who thought she was seen. But she realized soon enough it wasn’t for her. Bobbi’s stare followed a couple passing her by and coming for where Natasha was currently at. She hastily rushed into an alley near her, poking her head out only a little to see what was going on.

Bobbi had turned around and sped up toward where the couple left. Her eyes were locked on them, lips pressing, left hand reaching under the skirt of her coat for something…

”In case you really don’t know, what’s pressing up your waist is called a gun. Now be good, don’t move and don’t make any funny sound." Bobbi’s cold voice rang almost next to Natasha, who was standing on the entrance of the alley, a few yards from her. Natasha could see the hatred on her face a little too clearly from this angle.

The Russian was fully immobilized by the view. She didn’t come out of the alley, but she didn’t conceal her movement further. She watched the couple, both panic and confused by the sudden threat, stopped in the middle of the crowd in confusion. The woman’s hands were raised above her shoulders, clearly the one that was pointed.

"Turn around." Bobbi continued to order.

"We… We can give you money… Please don’t hurt - " The woman stuttered as she did as asked. Her husband next to her nodded frantically, one hand already searching for the wallet.

At first, Natasha didn’t notice Bobbi’s loosely clutched right fist hiding in her sleeve. And then, Natasha watched Bobbi loosen her right fist to let a familiar-looking silver staff slipped out of the sleeve and clench it after it free-fell for a short time. And then, Natasha watched in shock as the bottom of the baton was glistening with blue sparkles -

_Bzzzzzzzzz._

A few passersby screamed when the taser-mode baton hit the woman hard in the jaw and stayed there. Her body jerked in quick spasms as she fell backward. Her husband screamed as well, wanting to protect his wife but too afraid of the gun and the similarly dangerous weapon in her hand to do so.

"Bobbi!" Natasha couldn’t control herself any longer and called out her name, rushing out of the alley to catch the falling woman, "have you lost your goddamned m-"

And that was when she finally realized something was wrong… Some form of energy seemed to shift in the flesh she caught… _She grew heavier…_

Natasha cried out a curse in Russian loudly as she jerked away for a yard in shock, hand already reaching for the holster on her thigh, something she would never forget to bear. She went through great effort not to pulled it out at the last second. The situation was terrible enough. They really didn’t need another gun to make it worse.

The woman who got up from the ground was wearing the same clothes as a moment ago, but her skin turned emerald, a hue that became familiar with everybody now. Her ears were pointy and she had a wrinkled chin on her square face. Her sharp teeth showed when she grinned…

…Fucking little green men.

"Your insights are surprising, human." The Skrull pushed away from the man paralyzed by the sudden change, "I genuinely did not anticipate - "

The alien changed to another language, voice harsh and penetrating. To Natasha’s surprise, Bobbi replied shortly with the similar language and tone before she kicked her in the belly and sent her flying into the crowd.

The alien was struggling to get back up, but Bobbi didn’t let her. She put away her gun and baton in a swift move and walked toward her in steady steps, squatting down to sit on her waist, grasping her neck with one hand and raising another to form a fist, punching her repeatedly with something that could almost be described as calm.

Natasha stood where she was and watched, paralyzed. This was never how she expected it would go, and by the look of it, the outcome would be nasty. There were people slowly gathering around for noticing the one that was being beaten belonged to an alien race that tried to enslave mankind a few months ago, and they cheered for Bobbi because of it. But everything was never that simple, with whatever reasonable motivation she might have.

On the other hand, Natasha never expected Bobbi’s action as well. Of course, she wasn’t that naive to think of Bobbi as some cheery, smiling Cali girl as normal people would do. For God’s sake, she was a highly-trained S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who mastered several forms of martial arts and espionage skills and, obviously, just returned from an alien planet after all. Anyone who had been through what she’d been through may never make it, and when she did, she must have done it with considerable costs.

Natasha just never wanted to stop and consider the extent of it.

"Bobbi, stop — _stop!_ " Natasha finally reacted in the only way she could think of. She pushed through the growing crowd and grabbed Bobbi by the fist that was ready to hit as soon as she made it to her. She forgot to wear gloves when she hurried outside, and now she could feel the stickiness in the palm of her hand, knowing if she had let go she would have seen green blood on her knuckles. She underestimated Bobbi’s strength in each blow and almost let her fist slip because of the adding blood. 

The crowd burst into booing and shouting, urging Bobbi on.

Bobbi turned her head and looked straight into Natasha’s eyes. Natasha winced. She had witnessed many dreadful eyes: with zeal, with fury, with madness… She could always deal with people consumed by their emotion easily.

But Bobbi’s eyes looked way too calm. There were barely any emotion in her pale blue eyes. She looked so relaxed as if she was only doing weekend shopping in a big mall.

"She has to go through due process, Bobbi." Natasha insisted, "She will answer for whatever horrible crime she might have committed, or might have not. _You don’t know that_. We should let the authority to handle this."

Bobbi blinked innocently. Natasha almost gave in at that moment. _Damn blonde genes._ She looked focused when she was listening, but the hand on the Skrull’s neck tightened suddenly. The alien's face went livid without air and her eyes were slowly rolling up.

"Bobbi, _please!_ " Natasha implored anxiously.

_"Fine!"_ Bobbi finally threw her hands in the air with frustration and climbed up from the alien.

She turned to the public and reached for her pocket. She pulled out a round badge with an eagle on it, "we were after fugitives. I am an agent of S—"

"H.A.M.M.E.R. She meant agent of H.A.M.M.E.R." Natasha covered it with her hand with inhuman reaction, "this is—this is Agent Elliot. We are bringing this alien criminal back to—"

"What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?" Bobbi hissed at her angrily, still trying to pull back her hand.

"Trust me, you wouldn’t want them to see an eagle at this moment." Natasha managed to snatch her badge and shoved it back in her pocket, desperately searching for more words as she raised her voice, "she has violated multiple laws."

"Before you leave, I want you to know something, Skrull. Something I will never stop telling any of your kind in a similar situation." Bobbi turned back to the alien as if she was never interrupted, her hand back on her thigh, "I’ll find every last of you ever hiding out there. I’ll hunt down every last of you. You will live in eternal fear of me coming after you for as long as I’m alive—and since I survived your stupid planet, I daresay I will live way longer than you’d all like."

She drew her sidearm and pointed it at the still coughing Skrull. The people standing closer to her stood back a little, but everyone still watched with utter excitement.

The Skrull’s expression went calm, a smile even lingering on the corner of her lips. _"He loves you."_

Bobbi visibly froze for a second, but only a second. Whatever these three simple words meant to her, however special, she hid it well.

"Well, yeah, maybe. But he definitely doesn’t love you."

With the frenzied roar of the crowd, she shot the Skrull between the eyes, shoved the still smoldering Glock in Natasha’s hands, who was too shocked to come up with reactions of any sorts, and disappeared into the crowd.


End file.
